


Through the Looking Glass

by Bread_Stars



Series: Married!Sorian [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, F/F, M/M, Other characters to be revealed - Freeform, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, but like remastered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bread_Stars/pseuds/Bread_Stars
Summary: After two years in Tevinter, Dorian and Solas receive a letter calling them southwards.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Solas
Series: Married!Sorian [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932445
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing on in this series! This will be another multi-chapter fic and it’ll make a lot more sense if you read this after the first two instalments in the series.
> 
> If you don’t wanna divulge, then a quick summary:  
> -Dorian and Solas are married  
> -Inquisitor and Dorian both know who Solas really is  
> -After defeating Corypheus, Inky asked Solas to leave the Inquisition as she was nervous about his influence over her  
> -Solas and Dorian decided to leave for Tevinter to solve the issues there and that’s where we pick up now

“Solas?” Dorian poked his head into his husband’s study. The room was filled with bookcases houses some of the most interesting texts, including some Solas’ own. He had taken to writing a more accurate account of the Fade and the Veil, revealing as much as he felt possible without giving the readers too much power to exploit the information, and the spirits of the Fade. It had been a hectic two years, but Solas had found solace in academia and being able to produce his own works again seemed to really motivated him. 

At the call of his name, Solas looked up from his work over at the door where Dorian was stood. “Hm?”

“We’ve received a letter from the Inquisitor.”

“She often writes to us, does she not? What’s special about this letter?”

“It’s an invitation to the Winter Palace. They’re holding an Exalted Council to determine the fate of the Inquisition and she wants us to come,”he elaborated.

Solas put his pen down at that and stood to face Dorian. “She has invited both of us? You’re sure?”

Dorian rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, I’m sure. You can read it yourself if you want,” he pressed the piece of parchment into his hands. “Do you want to go? I mean I’m not sure we can refuse given the importance of such an event. It’d be like the Archon offering us a diplomatic meeting and then, after years of trying to get his attention to bring about reforms, telling him that we don’t want to meet anymore.”

”A third of the Magisterium are Lucerni. The Archon can hardly ignore us forever, especially since you’re a Magister now. With both leaders as powerful enemies, he will not be able to avoid hearing us out for much longer,” Solas reassured him. “Besides, we’ve reduced the slave population by half in two years. We now have an immense backing from both former slaves and their owners alike.” 

“I know, I know,” Dorian sighed, leaning against the door frame. “A lot of the hard work has been done. We should be proud of ourselves. But you’ve not answered my question.”

Solas took a step towards Dorian, his eyes scanning over the invitation. “I should very much like to meet with Herah again, if she’s ready to see me.” 

“I can probably arrange for us to be sent as Tevinter ambassadors. They won’t care enough to actually want to send anyone, so they’ll oblige. That will make sure that it’s scheduled leave so that people can’t suggest that we’ve just wandered off and reverse all our hard work,” he walked around the room to look over the calendar. “Luckily, this council doesn’t clash withany of the important upcoming events. Just a few minor balls that Maevaris can handle on her own.” 

Solas joined him in reading over the schedule for the upcoming months, marking the council in. “I don’t much like Altus Stultus anyway. This is a good excuse to avoid him.”

Dorian laughed. “He does suit his name rather well. I doubt that man would be able to tell apart a nug and a druffalo if you placed both before him.”

He hummed in response. “At least the journey to Orlais will be quicker this time.They can hardly send their ambassadors on horseback, can they?”

He snorted. “You know you’ve really evolved from the ascetic that I met three years ago. You actually enjoy the luxury of the Imperium. Who would’ve thought?”

“I can enjoy pleasant things,” he shrugged, “when they are not provided at the expense of others. I did enjoy Halamshiral on our last visit.”

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing we’re going back then.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m giving you a more substantial chapter this time you’ll be glad to hear

It was rather odd, at least in Dorian’s opinion, to be back at the Winter Palace. Their welcome was cordial, but it was clear that much had changed in the South in their absence. Gone was the excitement that had surrounded the Inquisition both during and after the quest to defeat Corypheus and seal the rifts for good. Now, people seemed to respect the Inquisition for its past deeds, but, if the gossip of the nobles was anything to go by, they feared what it might become. Funny, Dorian thought, that they never had the same concern when it came to the Chantry, or the Templars. 

The atmosphere was very clearly tense, but no one seemed to be paying them much mind. It seemed that they would have free time between conferences. Not that they would be invited to them all, by any means. From what Dorian could tell, the Inquisition was using this event for a reunion of the Inner Circle as well as an episode which would decide the fate of the entire organisation. It was, he realised possibly belatedly, a social call as much as anything else.

At first, he and Solas kept to themselves, unsure of quite how they would be received. It had been Varric who had approached them first, ever capable of making anyone feel at home anywhere.

“Sparkler, Chuckles! Glad to see you two stayed together! How’ve you been?”

“It’s good to see you, Varric!” Dorian responded cheerfully. “We’ve been enjoying my merry homeland, so as you can imagine it has been not the least bit welcoming.” 

“Wait so you’ve actually been in Tevinter? I thought the Inquisitor was having me off with that one,” he raised his eyebrows. “And I thought I had it bad being Viscount of Kirkwall.”

“Congratulations,” Solas praised. “I understand that’s a prestigious position.”

“Yeah, it is. Which is exactly why I hate it with a burning passion,” he clenched his jaw.

Dorian laughed loudly. “Well I can relate to that. I’ve just been given the honour of becoming a Magister myself. Turns out Father was not as popular as he liked to believe. He was assassinated and left the seat to me.”

“You holding up okay?” he frowned in concern.

“Yes, I believe I am. It was rather a shock at the time, but my father and I were hardly close. It’s complicated. If it’s alright with you, I’d prefer not to discuss it,” he managed a smile.

“Of course,” he quickly shifted subject. “So you truly are a Tevinter Magister now, huh? Good for you. Probably bad for them if I know anything about you,” he laughed. “So what mischief have you been causing the Imperium these past two years?”

Dorian glanced at Solas, signalling him to relate their achievements, knowing the pride the Elven Evanuris felt over their progress. “Our chief aim has been to change Tevinter’s power structure, reducing corruption and changing policies. Dorian and his countrymen have been quite successful in infiltrating the Magisterium. My efforts have been more focussed on stopping slavery. We have freed around half of slaves in Minrathous and the surrounding areas. I have been working on their rehabilitation and ensuring that they are not immediately caught and enslaved once again.”

Varric whistled. “Well you’ve certainly been busy. Tevinter will be a respectable country in no time with you two at the helm.”

“As respectable as Kirkwall?” Solas asked, seemingly perfectly serious.

“Hey! Watch how you talk! You’re speaking to the Viscount, remember? I’m so wounded that you would insult my city that I might just have to declare war on the Imperium!”

A rather slight looking man approached them upon hearing that comment. He was looking rather nervously at Varric, clasping his hands awkwardly over his chest. 

“Let me guess, Bran, I can’t do that without a shit ton of paperwork and some ceremonial crap involving ten Chantry sisters and the Guard-captain,” he rolled his eyes.

“Viscount, you should not say such things in jest. Merely stating such a thing is an official declaration of war,” Bran advised in his nasal voice.

“So declaring a war is the one thing I can do without paperwork? Wait does that mean that Kirkwall is at war with Tevinter now? Shit!” Varric cursed.

“If the Magister and his...” Bran squinted his eye as if doing so would give him the answer of what he and Solas were to one another.

“Husband,” Solas supplied.

“If the Magister and his husband were to inform the Archon, then Kirkwall would officially be at war.”

He almost rolled his eyes at that. As if he would see the Archon enough to slip it into casual conversation, he almost scoffed. The Archon was very exclusive with his contacts and unfortunately young revolutionary Magisters didn’t make the cut. It was painfully obvious that he was avoiding the topic of the Lucerni until it was absolutely impossible to ignore. Dorian wagered he still had a good year of holding out left in him.

“I’ll make sure not to mention it next time I see him,” Dorian replied in amusement.

Bran clearly did not recognise the sarcasm in his voice as he nodded respectfully, almost in deference. Maker, Varric must be constantly pulling his hair out with this idiot following his every move.

Speaking of, Dorian had noticed that one of the Orlesian nobles was eyeing them, clearly hoping to get a good look at, and possibly some conversation out of, the Tevinter ambassadors. Once Varric had been hurried away by his assistant (he wasn’t sure if that title was correct, but frankly that was how the man acted), the noble clearly intended to exploit the opportunity.

“You are the Tevinter ambassadors, correct? Duke Cyril de Montfort, at your service. I am the Orlesian ambassador for this Exalted Council,” he introduced himself with a slight bow of his head.

“We are. I’m Dorian Pavus of the Magisterium. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Duke de Montfort,” he slipped easily into his facade. 

“My name is Solas, his fellow ambassador,” he purposefully stated his position, determined not to be mistaken for a slave or servant of some kind.

“It is an honour. May I ask what the Imperium’s interest is in this council? You must understand how rare it is to hear of such a thing as a Tevinter ambassador, let alone two,” he dug for information, his methods seeming even more sloppy with such recent comparison of with those of his homeland.

“The Magisterium has offered a formal apology on behalf of the Venetori, and simply wished to ensure that the group is not causing any further trouble. It is hardly good for our image to have our extremists plaguing the South,” Dorian explained. “Besides, the Inquisition is a valuable ally, led by my trusted friend.”

“Naturally,” he replied. “I too wish the best for the Inquisition in the upcoming weeks. It will be a difficult time for the organisation. Many wish it to be disbanded, but I think we can agree that that’s a thoroughly bad idea.”

“Ahh, and you only wish to take all of its power, despite all of the work it has done, and exploit it for yourselves. Orlais is no better than its Fereldan counterparts,” he argued, his tone never changing from being smooth and collected.

“Orlais is on your side, Lord Pavus. The Inquisition’s support is not a thing to lose lightly,” Duke de Montfort nodded, clearly wishing to find some sort of common ground between the parties. To what end, Dorian did not know.

”Which is why the Orlesian Court is circling it with a net and collar?” he rolled his eyes. He had noted the whispers of the court, heard all about what Ferelden and Orlais were each planning for the Inquisition. What was plainly clear was that neither of them trusted it.

In the corner of his eye, however, he saw that figure of legend herself. Her mark glowing green as always, the Inquisitor hesitantly approached them. Her eyes flitted between the three of them, lingering a fraction longer on Solas.

“But you’ll have to excuse me. I see an old friend I must greet,” he dismissed the Ambassador, offering his hand out to Solas. The elven mage gladly took it as they advanced towards Adaar.

“Inquisitor! How long has it been? Don’t actually tell me. I despise feeling old. It’s good to see you, my friend,” he greeted warmly and genuinely. It was only partially a show for Duke de Montfort, illustrating his connections.

“It’s good to see you, Dorian,” she smiled, only faltering as her gaze shifted to the other man. “Solas, I’m glad you came.”

“I am glad to have been invited. I have missed your company,” he admitted.

Dorian knew it to be true. Whilst he could provide intellectual conversation well enough, there had always been a curiosity and willingness to learn in the Inquisitor that could not be placed. Solas had missed this relationship sorely in their absence, clearly hearing her intrigued responses in his head as he studied certain fields.

“I believe an important conversation is in order. One I would like to have in privacy,” she assured him.

“But first you must address Orlais’ Ambassador,” he inferred. “We will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

She nodded, looking somewhat relieved that she’d have a little more time before actually having the difficult conversations with them. She then walked past them towards the ambassador.

As they descended from the upper walkways, an elf frantically sped up to them, her eyes trained on Solas. Dorian instantly recognised her as one of the freed slaves from Minnrathous. Her case was especially horrific. They had found her covered in bruises and cowering in a corner when they rescued her. She had refused to speak for over a week and they had had to house her in their own home. When she finally spoke, it was heartbreaking words of deference.

“Ser Solas, Magister Pavus, I need your help,” she stuttered.

“What is it, da’len?” Solas offered her a welcoming look. “We will do our best to aid you.”

“It’s Elria, right?” Dorian smiled warmly.

“Yes, Lord Pavus. I’ve seen suspicious barrels brought in by some servants I’ve never seen before. They claim that they’re wines for the council, but I’ve never seen any wine stored like that. It had some writing on it too, but I couldn’t read the language,” she explained, her words spoken quickly and quietly.

Solas frowned. “Where did you see these barrels?”

“Near the tavern, Ser.”

“We shall look into this. Thank you for bringing this to our attention,”Solas nodded in appreciation.

“I must go back to my duties. Thank you both,” she smiled before anxiously scurrying way.

They shared a glance before making their way over to the tavern quickly, in the hope that they would catch these barrels before they were moved out of sight. The servant’s information had been good; the barrels were indeed odd. Spherical and numerous, the barrels were sealed tighter than necessary for any alcoholic beverage. The writing on the side was not in the common alphabet.

“That’s in Qunlat,” he frowned. “I think it says Gattlock, but that can’t be right. That would mean...”

“That would mean the Qunari are planningto explode the Winter Palace, leaving the South open for invasion,” Solas filled in, his fingers tracing the letters. “I also read ‘handle with care’, but my Qunlat is hardly perfect. I do not often use it.”

Dorian shook his head. Just as he thought that this Council couldn’t go any worse for the Inquisition, the Qunari get involved. “Great, so we somehow have to tell Adaar that the Qunari plan to blow us all up. How do you think Orlais and Fereldan will feel about this one?”

“Somehow, I don’t think they’ll react well,” Solas removed his hand from the barrel. “I think one of us ought to remain with these. We cannot have our evidence removed after making such an accusation.”

“Hmm you’re probably right,” he stared at the barrels as if they might walk off of their own accord. “But just to be safe, why don’t we both stay here?”

Solas smirked subtly. “Just to be safe. I’m sure that the Inquisitor will find us here anyhow.”

Sure enough, after a good half hour of waiting around they saw the Inquisitor walking in their direction. It seemed she was more concerned about the conversation with Solas than about the ambassadors trying to dismantle the Inquisition. Dorian couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. He had tried very hard to understand her viewpoint many times over the past few years, he really had. Yet, despite all that had happened, he could never quite grasp how she could turn her friend away after he had repeatedly displayed loyalty to her. Solas had tried to explain it to him, on multiple occasions in fact, but his mind always found a counter argument. 

That conversation, however, would have to wait.

“Inquisitor, we have a pressing matter to discuss with you,” Solas said in his formal and serious voice. 

Her face darkened as she glanced suspiciously around them, surveying the battlefield. “What’s wrong?” 

“We have found casks of Gattlock, brought in by elven servants,” he informed her, glancing slightly to the barrels beside him.

“Gattlock? But that would mean a Qunari invasion!”

“So we have concluded, yes,” Dorian smiled. “We must assume that there are spies in our midst. We should act as if everything is normal. If they find out that we know, the invasion might be much more violent.”

“You’ve just found out that we’re at war with the Qun and you want me to act relaxed? How did you come by this information anyway?” she narrowed her eyes. 

“One of the slaves we freed from Minrathous works here. She recognised us and told us that she had seen a fellow elven servant, one she did not recognise, delivering strange barrels. She was concerned about the purpose of such suspicious movements and it seems it was rightfully so,” Solas explained.

“Does that not strike you as odd that she would be in the right place at the right time?” 

“About as odd as you surviving the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, obtaining the anchor, walking out of the Fade, then proceeding to unite Southern Thedas, and kill the would be god who sought to destroy the world,” he compared.

“I suppose I deserve that,” she managed to smile weakly. “I can’t say I regret for what I’ve done, but I am sorry for the pain it caused you. Both of you. It has been difficult to try and come to terms with how you have influenced my journey, but you are not to blame for offering your help where you saw it was needed.”

The corner of Solas’ lip turned up as he gazed upwards at the Inquisitor. “Thank you. Nor do I blame you for your response. It is completely natural that you might worry about my influence upon you. While I cannot say that I was not hurt by your judgement, I understand it.”

She nodded before turning her gaze towards Dorian. “And you,” she spoke, “I knew that asking Solas to leave would mean your absence too. You must be furious with me for what I did. You know the truth as well and you did not push Solas away.”

“I..” he faltered, unable to meet her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you asked Solas to leave, not with everything he’s done for you. For all of us. But Solas seems to get your reasoning. Maybe that is enough.”

She shuffled slightly, clearly considering what he had said. She was clearly uncomfortable with the topic. He supposed he might have been a little harsh, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t been equally difficult in her judgement of his husband. Besides, he respected her too much to lie to her.

Anyhow, the silence was growing longer and longer. They were all growing more uncomfortable by the second, or at least it seemed that way to Dorian. He had to take pity on the Inquisitor. Leading was never an easy task and that there would always be people who disagreed; it just so happened that that person was him this time. He decided that enough was enough. It was clear that no one knew where to go from here and they really couldn’t afford to waste any more time when they had discovered such an important and devastating plot.

“But that,” he cleared his throat, this breaking the silence, “can wait for later. We still have to deal with these barrels. What would you have us do?”

She cleared her throat and glanced at the casks in question. “We need to get Josephine, Leliana and Cullen together along with the ambassadors from Orlais and Fereldan and Divine Justinia. Get some of the Inner Circle to help you transport the Gattlock some place secure so we can show them the evidence. We don’t need anyone else getting their hands on this stuff.”

There were five barrels in total, or at least that’s how many there were in the tavern. They were actually not as heavy as Dorian would have imagined. Despite their size, he was able to comfortably carry two at a time. That meant, with Solas also managing to carry two, they only needed one extra person to carry the final barrel. The Iron Bull seemed like the obvious choice given he was already in the tavern and might be able to offer some insight into what was going on.

“Yeah, this is definitely Gattlock,” he scrunched up his eyes as he stared over at the casks. “Not sure what it’s doing here though. I’ve not heard anything from my supervisors.”

“So you don’t know about any kind of Qunari plot?” Dorian watched his face for his reaction. He knew it would be difficult- if not impossible- to tell if Bull actually wanted to hide something, but he hoped that he wasn’t so far estranged from him and the rest of the Inquisition that he wouldn’t help them with something as significant as this. 

They regularly wrote letters to one another over the course of the two year interval, often of a personal nature as they avoided each other’s politics. They both knew that that could get messy so they’d quickly established it as a no-go topic of conversation. It did mean that they got to know each other pretty well though and Dorian trusted Bull knew what he was doing.

“Nope. I thought that they’d tell me about this sort of thing to be honest,” Bull appeared equally confounded by the progression of events as they worked on transporting the Gattlock to the storage cells guarded by trusted Inquisition troops.

Just before they arrived there, however, Solas stopped abruptly, a frown adorning his face. Noticing that his husband was no longer moving with them, Dorian turned around, his gaze questioning.

“What’s wrong, amatus?” 

“I can sense elven magic here. Powerful magic at that. We should put these away quickly. I need to search for the source,” he looked around, like a needle on a compass shifts to demonstrate direction. The fact that he was trying so hard to pinpoint the location of the artefact must have meant that it held immense power. 

He nodded as they hurried off to dispose of the Gattlock. The Inquisition guards had barely locked the door to the holding cell when Solas sped off. Bull motioned for Dorian to follow his husband as he stood awkwardly, not wanting to run off and leave him behind. He wasted no time in hurrying to catch up with Solas, darting quickly to keep up with the elf.

“Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?” he puffed, his breath short from running.

“It’s an Eluvian,” he murmured quietly, clearly not wanting to broadcast such information so soon. 

“An Eluvian here?” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “It’s not one of yours, I take it?”

He was well aware of the fact that Solas used the Eluvians to travel from place to place, escorting freed slaves far away from their former masters. It was an effective way to help those who wished to escape to far away from their wretched lives, to start again somewhere new. Moreover, it provided the link to his past which he was craving for. Dorian couldn’t fault Solas for wanting to have something to keep him grounded through time.

“No. I would not be so reckless as to place an Eluvian inside the Winter Palace. The only explanation I can fathom is that it is somehow connected with the Qunari plot. How, I am not sure.”

“Well, if that’s how they’re getting the Gattlock in, we need to find it fast,” Dorian asserted. “Do you have any idea where it is?”

Solas’ ears twitched as he turned around, almost as if he were-

“Can you actually  hear it?” 

“All magic has a signature. The Eluvians were intrinsically connected to the Evanuris as well as to the Fade. I suppose it’s akin to how Lyrium sings to the Dwarves,” he started to march up towards a trellis strewn with ivy leaves. He glanced upwards, looking at the balcony. “It’s up there.”

Dorian shrugged and began to climb the trellis. Really, he’d caused more scandals simply existing back home than this might ever cause. Solas followed his lead, scaling the wall behind him, continuing up until they reached the room above. When they stepped through the open doors, Dorian could feel the magic radiating from the Eluvian which stood before him. It was clear that the Eluvian was still open, it’s glass rippling like the current of a river as it meandered over stones and pebbles alike.

Solas stepped towards it, his fingers dancing across the glass which undulated beneath at his touch. He looked almost entranced by the mirror, clearly examining its magic in more detail than could be comprehended in a lifetime.

“Any idea where it might lead?” 

His voice seemed to shock Solas out of his reverie, as he glanced towards Dorian briefly. “None without going through it.” 

“Then we go through it. We should probably wait for the Inquisitor. If there’s trouble on the other side then we need to be prepared to deal with it,” he stepped up beside the other man, his gaze trained on his husband as opposed to the mirror itself.

“We need to secure this as well,” he turned sharply towards Dorian. “We can not afford to have any more spies coming through.”

“I have a feeling we’re going to need more people to carry this one,” Dorian sighed, earning a mischievous look from his husband .

“Not necessarily.”

Before Dorian could ask what he meant by that, Solas’ eyes flashed pale blue and that same blue radiated from the Eluvian. He was interacting with the magic from the mirror, Dorian realised. Threads of blinding blue reached out to Solas from the mirror, almost enveloping him. The threads twisted and turned almost as if they were alive. He’d never seen anything like it. A hand grasped for his and suddenly they appeared in the holding cell next to the Gattlock. He almost lost his footing from the motion of it all, but Solas caught him from falling, his arms coming about his waist.

“Clever,” he smiled, righting his centre of gravity. “But how do we explain to the guards how we got here? I think they’d remember if we came by with a giant magic mirror.”

“We tell the truth, of course,” Solas replied, striding over time the four guards in question. They jumped when they noticed him, clearly very confused about where he had come from. 

“How did you get in there?” one of them demanded, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“I was transporting an Eluvian to a secure location,” he offered, his face schooled into its usual stern expressed. “My husband here was acting as moral support.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. He knew that his statement was probably true, but how he had managed to keep a straight face whilst saying such a thing to the guards was beyond him.

“An Eluvian?” Another guard scrunched up his face.

“They acted as a means of transport for the ancient elves and we suspect that the Qunari may be using them to bring in the Gattlock. Given that the Eluvians are ancient and powerful magic, I was able to interact with the loose threads of the Fade to bring it here. It must have brought us along with it somehow. It’s fascinating. Shall I explain the theory behind the magic?”

“No, no,” said the second guard in such a hurried way that Dorian suspected he might have been an ex-Templar. “That is- it’s quite alright. Thank you for securing this... artefact. Should we inform the Inquisitor of its arrival?”

“Leave that to us,” Solas inclined his head.

It appeared that that soothed the guards a great deal. He supposed that reporting the arrival of an ancient elven magic mirror might be quite intimidating to a lowly officer who wasn’t even a mage. It must have been confusing enough as it was without having to explain it to someone else.

The guards quickly moved out of their way, allowing them past. Their hands dropped from their weapons as they realised that they posed no threat. Dorian flashed them a smile as he followed Solas out, earning a scowl from more than one of them. Clearly, his charms were not appreciated as much as they deserved to be. 

“Southern Thedas’ distaste with magic never ceases to amaze me,” he shook his head. 

“That distaste got us out of a tricky situation,” Solas shrugged. “You are simply upset that your sole purpose was to look pretty.”

Dorian scoffed. “I always look pretty. That’s just your way of saying I was useless and that I’m simply your trophy husband.”

Solas didn’t respond, but his smug silence was indication enough. Dorian gazed over at him only to see a slight smile pinching at his lips as his eyes remained focussed on the path in front of them. 

“Are we going to barge into this conference about the Gattlock to break the bad news to them or should we give them an interval to regroup?” he changed the subject, seeing that he would get not response.

“Given that our information is pertinent to their meeting, I think we ought to inform them now. The Inquisitor will likely want to know about my involvement in controlling the Eluvians as well,” he almost grimaced.

“Surely,  that she can understand. That magic is your culture and you’re not the one who’s using it for nefarious means.”

“It does make me more powerful though,” he pointed out. 

Dorian snorted. “If she didn’t already know how powerful you are, she wouldn’t have sent you away in the first place. That is it, isn’t it? She was worried that if you decided to oppose her then she wouldn’t be able to stop you?”

Solas stopped and stared at him for a long time. If he weren’t used to his husband’s odd behaviour, it might have made him feel uncomfortable. As it was he simply waited it out, allowing Solas to work through whatever was going through his mind. This could go on for hours or simply seconds depending on the matter and the day. This time the silence lasted about five minutes, if Dorian’s grip on time was anything to go by.

“I think she underestimates the power that you have over me,” he said, somewhat quietly. “She thinks only of the destruction I could wreak alone. It is not a case of who could defeat whom. It is much more complex than that. I value the Inquisitor’s friendship, but she has failed to see that there is little I would be willing to do that would bring suffering to you.”

Dorian was taken aback by the raw emotion of what he was saying. “Amatus, are you saying you didn’t tear down the Veil and bring back Ancient Arlathan because of me?”

“I suppose there were other factors, but it was you who demonstrated that this world had depth and emotion to it. That it had worth even if it was different to my own world. I thought you knew that, vhenan,” he frowned.

Dorian stared at him. “It’s different knowing than hearing you actually say it. Solas, you know how much you mean to me. Maker, I tell you all the time. But sometimes it’s easy to forget how much you have sacrificed for my sake, what you were willing to part with. You fit so easily into my life that I sometimes forget that this is not the world you consider to be home.”

“I admit it was difficult to give up on my hopes of restoring Arlathan, but you should not feel guilty for my choice. It would have been selfish for me to prioritise my own desires over the people of this world. While perhaps this state of existence should never had come to pass, I created it. I am responsible for the consequences as you share in the responsibility for Tevinter,” he assured. “In any case, it is as you told me two years ago. My place is beside you. This is my home now.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows, bursting out into laughter. “I had completely forgotten I said that. Come on, Amatus, let’s get this meeting over with so we can find out where this mysterious Eluvian leads.”

Dorian looped his arm around Solas’ waist affectionately. It was rare that they actually participated in such public displays of affection. Usually, they limited it to holding hands or standing close to one another. But he felt that Solas needed this right now- the comfort of being reassured that Dorian was here for him. Solas leaned into the embrace, and they began to approach the gates of the Palace itself. The guards stood at the entrance to the main meeting hall blocked their passage, asserting that the meeting was in progress.

“We have significant information that is relevant to this meeting,” Solas responded calmly. “This intel cannot be trusted to anyone except the Inquisitor herself.”

The guards looked put out, but one of the grudgingly slipped into the hall to alert the Inquisitor of their presence. When he emerged, he looked somewhat annoyed at them, but he let them pass with a stern nod. This time, Dorian held back his grin, taking the feedback from the first set they’d run into.

“Dorian, Solas,” the Inquisitor greeted cordially. The ambassadors were surprisingly not present, but in their place stood Leliana, Cullen and Josephine. They all watched them expectantly, clearly hoping for good news.“What information do you have?”

“We found an Eluvian placed in one of the upper rooms of the Winter Palace,” Solas explained. “I suspect that it may have something to do with the Qunari plot. I have already transported it into one of your holding cells. It would have been unwise to leave it alone and unattended.”

“An Eluvian? Here?” Josephine cried out in astonishment.

Leliana looked pensively off into the distance. “It would explain how they managed to smuggle in the Gattlock barrels. We must assume that they have also brought in spies who may already know about our intel.”

“There is more,” Solas said hesitantly. “Before we begin this investigation, there is something you must know. I have made use of the Eluvians, opening several crossroads and passages, to help former slaves escape. I control a part of the Eluvian network; however, it is only one piece in a much larger puzzle. This Eluvian is not one of mine, but it could well lead to my network. I felt it necessary to disclose this information now.”

“There are more?” the Inquisitor glanced at him sharply. “I thought most of the Eluvians had been lost or destroyed.”

“They have,” he reasoned, “for the most part. You must understand that they were as common as roads and streets are in the modern world. Most of the Eluvians have gone, but there are enough that remain to form passageways.”

The Inquisitor rubbed subconsciously at the base of her horns, letting out a long sigh. 

“This will make it much harder to trace the Qunari steps. Please tell me at least that the Eluvian is still open?”

Solas nodded slightly. “It was open when we found it.”

“I doubt they would have closed it, even if they know we found it,” Cullen spoke. “It’s simply too useful an asset to give up. They might still try to send forces through it so we must be prepared. I assume you told the guards of this importance of protecting it?”

“Of course,” Dorian chipped in. “They seemed rather unsettled about the magic of it all, truth be told.”

“So they should be,” Cullen muttered. Clearly, his Templar past still impacted his view of magic, always untrusting and sceptical of any form of magical artefact. A source this powerful must truly shake him to the core. 

Dorian wondered what it would be like to fear magic in such a way. He had grown up in a culture which embraced it to the extreme, praising those of particularly powerful abilities and squandering those who showed no magical potential. Magic was such an intrinsic part of his life that he could not imagine living without it. It quite literally permeated his being.

“I would like you both to accompany me through the Eluvian,” the Inquisitor announced abruptly and completely unexpectedly.

“But that would mean you are bringing three mages. Is that a wise strategy?” Cullen frowned.

“Solas is familiar with the magic involved in navigating the Eluvians, and Dorian can provide a unique perspective in terms of history and culture. This is a magical problem and requires mages to help solve it. I will also be bringing the Iron Bull. He may be able to deduce the reasons for this attack,” she said authoritatively, in a time that allowed for no objections. No one could say she hadn’t grown into her role as leader.

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Cullen replied in defeat. 


	3. Chapter Two

It was about an hour before they actually departed. The Inquisitor has to finish off her meeting and everyone had to gear up, since no one had expected there to be any need to fight. Potions had to be brewed, armour fitted on, weapons tested. 

When they were all finally ready to leave, it was the Inquisitor who first entered the Eluvian, disappearing under its rippling glass. Then went the Iron Bull, the muscle of the group, and after him Solas entered the mirror. Dorian was the last to follow through, at the back of the group. He felt goosebumps form as his skin tingled from the raw yet finessed magical energy of the Eluvian. As he stepped through, a stone path floating midair formed before him, leading off in various directions to other Eluvians. The spaces between the paths seemed to be an endless drop, a mist preventing any observer from calculating the actual depth. 

Dorian glanced between the rest of the group who equally seemed to be taking in their surroundings. Solas was the only one who didn’t seem in awe, presumably meaning that this was a fairly common sight in the passageways. He himself had only had the opportunity to go through a few Eluvians in his lifetime, never accompanying Solas on his journeys as he stayed behind to guard the open entrance. 

“Do you recognise this place, Solas?” the Inquisitor asked once she had finished gazing at the incredible landscapes.

Solas looked almost amused at that, though neither the Inquisitor nor Iron Bull seemed to be able to tell. “No. The Eluvians form a vast network. This place is similar to many other passages, at least in terms of appearance. It is not, however, one of my passages, if that was your question. It appears to be a crossroads. Each Eluvian will lead to a different part of the network.”

“So the ancient elves like their stone then,” Bull seemed surprised. “Thought that was just dwarves.”

“It is magically elevated stone,” Solas responded somewhat irritably. “Besides, the passageways did not always appear this way.”

“What did they used to look like?” Dorian interjected, moving the subject on, trying to keep things cordial. 

Solas spoke, barely sparing a glance at him as he spoke, keeping his eyes trained on the Bull. “There was life everywhere, plants growing in all the empty deadened spaces that exist now. Leaves of every different colour adorned the walkways, and trees bearing fruits curled around the Eluvians themselves. It must have been truly beautiful,” he described wistfully.

“It sounds incredible,” the Inquisitor replied. She spoke to him the way she had before they defeated Corypheus, before she had sent him away. Solas’ eyes widened minutely, clearly thinking the same thing as Dorian. He looked subtly pleased, his lip upturned and his head inclined.

“Sadly, it was lost as with so much elven history,” Solas spoke with remorse. “Yet the Eluvians remain, even if not as stunning as before.”

Bull shuffled awkwardly at all this reminiscing. “Can we get to finding and killing whoever’s using this magical crap to destroy us all?”

The Inquisitor smiled fondly as she led the way around the walkway. The first Eluvian they came across was very clearly locked, draining their hopes a little. What if the Qunari conspirators shut each mirror behind them? Then how would they follow their steps? However, in their peripheral vision, they caught sight of Qunari running towards an open Eluvian. They sprinted and dashed their way over to the mirror, slipping through the liquid glass after them, stumbling through into a stone corridor where a further Eluvian was placed, although dimmed. As they ascended the stone stairs and proceeded through the open doorway, the world opened up before them as grassy rolling hills, and fields of various crops, and luscious meadows all became visible.

The view was spectacular. Life practically permeated as far as the eye could see, with the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the buzzing of insects all audible.

“Extraordinary.”

The word escaped Dorian’s mouth without him even realising it. The sound of his own voice brought him back to the present as he glanced at his companions. Solas was gazing at him fondly, his eyes bright and practically reflecting the life of the valleys.

The elf cleared his throat. “This is an old Elven ruin, likely a shrine to one of their gods. The Eluvian ahead will likely bring us to another part of the ruin.”

Dorian had been so engrossed in the landscape that he had hardly noticed the shimmering Eluvian which stood before them. The Inquisitor and Bull has begun to shift towards it, already down the steps and on the walkway leading up to it. He went to follow them, but before he could do so, he felt a hand catch at his arm. He twisted around to look back at Solas, his face open and expecting.

“I am almost certain that this place is dedicated to telling the ‘truth’ about Fen’Harel,” he admitted quietly. “It is a shrine to me.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “You’ve been here before then?”

A short nod was his response. “This place shows alternate versions of what I have done. A more sympathetic version than Dalish folk tales. But we cannot react to the information. If Bull is not as honest as he seems, this information could cripple not only the Inquisition, but the whole of Thedas.”

“Because if the Qunari see you as a real threat, then they won’t hesitate to wage war on the South at whatever cost,” Dorian filled in the gaps. “And you would be caught in the middle of another war, only this time, you can’t lock the enemy away in the Fade.”

“It would be kinder to tear down the Veil,” Solas said remorsefully, breaking eye contact as he gazed off into the distance thoughtfully. 

Dorian stared at him, trying to deduce what could possibly be running through his mind at this moment. Was he imagining Ancient Arlathan with its glass spires and beautiful architecture? Could he see the world burning in his mind’s eye as demons roamed freely? Did he picture a world drowned in war, devastated by the force of an Elven God against the entire Qunari nation? Or perhaps he saw Thedas subjugated by the Qun, all traces of free will obliterated?

“So we don’t let them find out,” he found himself saying, unable to bear the thought of any of those outcomes, reaching up to touch the hand resting on his upper arm, caressing those pale slender fingers. 

Solas gazed up at him thoughtfully, his eyes filled with sadness and hope- ever the paradox. 

“Hey, are you two coming or what?” Bull interrupted the moment by yelling.

Solas’ head turned abruptly to the source of the noise, clearly startled out of the conversation. He quickly followed on after them. 

This conversation would have to wait for later.

—

The trek through the Eluvians indeed did reveal a version closer to the truth of Fen’Harel’s past. As they had discussed, they did their best not to react to the reveals of the tale told if the Elven Evanuris of trickery. Fortunately, Inquisitor quickly realised what they were doing and made no indication that she knew more than she was letting on.

The doorways interacted curiously with the anchor, causing it to flare up. The Inquisitor’s hand was evidently deteriorating. She seemed to be favouring her other arm for the time being, unable to ask for guidance on the meaning of the changes in front of Bull. 

They progressed through the passageways, unlocking more of the supposed truth, before running into the mob of Qunari huddled in what appeared to be a central hall, abandoned for ages no doubt. The battle was long and gruelling; their warriors were strong and well-trained. However, they managed to overcome the enemy forces, gaining further intel before being brought back to the initial corridor.

“It seems we’ve come full circle,” Dorian mused.

“Ugh, I hate these magical mirrors! How do we know where to go now?” Bull exclaimed gruffly.

“Perhaps another Eluvian has been opened in the original crossroads,” Solas suggested, nodding his head to the Eluvian which would lead them back there. “Or perhaps, we will be able to see more Qunari moving from one to the next. It seems that this passageway has offered up all its secrets, but that does not mean that there will not be other opportunities to learn more.”

The Inquisitor shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a better plan at the moment. We need to return to the Winter Palace anyway to inform my advisors of what we’ve found out.”

—

“What’s happening to the anchor?” Adaar burst into Dorian and Solas’ shared quarters.   


They had arrived back at Halamshiral only a few hours ago. The time, however, was filled with a sense of anticipation and the desire to find the root of the mystery hidden within the Eluvians.

Solas stood and advanced, his gaze trained on the anchor itself which shone brightly at the Inquisitor’s side. She lifted it consciously, examining it with her own eyes.

“I believe that it is killing you. No mortal was meant to bear that mark and its power is slowly consuming you,” he paused slightly. “I can remove it which would save your life, but to do so would mean removing your entire forearm. In any case, I think it may still be of some use whilst we are traversing the Eluvians. I can buy you some more time, but it must be removed soon. I would say you have a few days, if you continue to fight and interact with Elven artefacts.”

Adaar’s eyes widened as she cradled her arm carefully, gazing thoughtfully at the mark her hand bore. After a moment, she held it out to the Elven Evanuris. There was a strange vulnerability in her eyes as she trusted in Solas.

“You said you could buy me some time?” 

He nodded decisively. White-blue flashed across his eyes and he inhaled sharply as he interacted with the magic from his orb which had bestowed the anchor in the first place. The green light flared slightly before subduing. It was clear that the Inquisitor was much relieved of the bursts of pain which had been plaguing her throughout their trek. Her eyes fluttered closed as her whole body relaxed visibly. 

“Solas?”

His eyes having returned to their usual grey-blue tones, he met her gaze steadily. His fingers fell to his side as his focus shifted away from the anchor, twitching slightly at his side. Dorian wanted to reach out and take his slender fingers to stop that nervous tick. Now, however, did not seem like the time. Besides, this conversation was between Solas and the Inquisitor really; it wasn’t his place to get involved. They had much to resolve that would require both time and patience in abundance.

“How much of those... visions were the truth?” 

Solas averted his gaze briefly before flitting his eyes back to her face. “There are many versions of the truth. I did do all of the deeds shown in those bursts of magic. The visions you saw portrayed the events closer to my own perspective, although coloured much by the glorification heaped upon me by those who considered me their saviour. I claim no extraordinary power. Nor should any other being, no matter the power they yield.”

Herah seemed to contemplate that point, her head tilted slightly to the side as she furrowed her brow. 

“I think there’s something more going on here than we can see. Keep your guard up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope your liking this story so far! As always, it’s great to hear what you thought about it!


	4. Chapter 3

It seemed, to Dorian, that the further they went through the Eluvians, the more absurd their intel became. There were fragmentary references to the Dread Wolf, as Solas predicted, but also to the fall of the Elven Gods in general. The more they discovered, the less they felt they understood. It felt very much like they were walking into one giant trap without the slightest idea what was going on and that scared the void out of him. 

They were currently between trips into the Eluvians as the Inquisitor attempted to maintain the illusion of peace and control for the council so that they could carry on their investigations without interruption. Plus the whole thing of averting a mass crisis. This council was tense enough as it was without the additional stress of a possible invasion and war.

But these breaks gave Dorian time to think about things and that, as usual, ended up with him contemplating how things would play out. Unfortunately this time it was as if he couldn’t see a way through. There were too many unknowns, too many twists and turns in the road obscuring the final destination.

“Amatus?”

Solas hummed questioningly in response, turning his attention away from the book placed on the wooden desk. Really, the Orlesians know how to decorate, even if it was a bit frilly from time to time.

“What do you suppose the Qunari want with the Evunaris? Surely they have no cultural interest in them and it’s not as if they can use them to expand the rule of the Qun since it’s just you.”

Solas closed the book he was reading and twisted to face Dorian who was sprawled on the bed, propped up at the elbow. He clasped his hands together, stopping himself from fidgeting, a move Dorian knew well by this point.

“I am unsure. I can only assume they have discovered that the Evanuris were not killed but locked away, and seek to release them. Perhaps they seek the Dread Wolf’s aid not knowing that he wants no part of such a plot. He has spent enough of his time wasted on his peers who believed themselves to be superior. Now, he desires only to settle down with his husband and make whatever change he can to improve the lives of the elves he doomed.”

“And I will make sure he gets that,” Dorian immediately responded. “After all he has been through, he’s earned his rest. Yes he may have made mistakes along the way but he is not only his errors. He is also beautiful in both mind and body, intelligent, quick-witted, insightful, inquisitive, loving, and kind and I love him.”

Solas’ face softened from its stern and tightly drawn expression to one much more compassionate which displayed the caring nature that was so often hidden from the world. Dorian might have wished he’d show it all the time if he didn’t feel so special and chosen when it was directed at him.

“He loves you too.”

“I know you do.” 

Dorian pushed himself off the bed and walked over and kissed the top of his husband’s head tenderly. He let his hands come to rest on the elf’s shoulders as he did so, holding the position for a while. He wanted Solas to know how important he was to him, especially if he was going to be targeted as a weapon. They didn’t even think of him as sentient, he almost shook his head with disgust.

“We will get our lives back one day.” 

Solas hummed softly in response, content but neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He looped his arms around Dorian’s waist and leant his head against his stomach. 

“I should be comforting you. I shouldn’t be the one feeling powerless here”, he almost scolded himself.

“Solas, the Qunari are looking for you as if you aren’t even a person. You have a right to be shaken by that. Being objectified to complete someone else’s goals is never something that makes you feel powerful or strong. I can be strong for you whilst we resolve this issue. Maker knows you’ve been strong for me many times before over the past three years.”

Solas considered him for a moment. “You know you are extraordinarily wise for someone so young. Too often I forget that.”

He chuckled softly, more of a vibration which rumbled through the man he was embracing. “In that case, I shall have to keep reminding you.”

At that, he felt Solas hold on a little bit tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven’t updated this in ages - I’ve had quite a busy month and a bit of writer’s block to go with that. This is a bit of a filler chapter before the climax. I hope you guys enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 4

Before the Inquisitor and her party stood a muscular elf, dressed in golden armour which shimmered, reflecting the sun into a million pieces. It reminded Dorian of Solas on their wedding day. This elf, however, had long blonde hair restrained only by his ears and a small hair tie. His face was drawn into an expression of pride, clearly holding himself above all others in the entirety of Thedas. His features were much sterner than Solas’, almost emotionless. 

“Elgar’nan,” Solas breathed.

“I suppose this must be a surprise, Fen’Harel,” the elf before them almost sang his name, mocking his title. “Thought you’d locked us away for good? It isn’t that easy to get rid of us. Even you must know that.”

“Elgar’nan?” Adaar frowned, her hand’s twitching as she readied for a fight. “As in the Elven god?”

“Correct! And you are the one who took Fen’Harel’s anchor. You should show some respect for the gift that you have received, even if it will kill you.”

“How did you escape?” Solas examined him, clearly looking for any signs of his purpose.

He cackled loudly. “I slipped through that handy hole in the Veil you created! Thanks for that one, by the way. Once I return the rest of our fellow gods to this realm, you will suffer my true wrath for what you have done! Thanks to your little Qunari friend- what was it? The Iron Bull? - I know everything about the Inquisition. I will find and destroy everything you hold dear and you will be forced to watch this world die. I think I will start with him.”

Elgar’nan nodded his head towards Dorian, and he couldn’t help but gulp. He knew that Solas would do everything in his power to protect him, but he understood that this elf was the most powerful of all the elven Evanuris. He suddenly thought of his husband. After all they’d been through he didn’t deserve facing standing alone against this threat. Who would protect Solas if he was gone? 

“Well I don’t think that’s very polite! I know you’ve been away for thousands of years but courtesy can’t have changed that much,” Dorian bit back, on that note. He couldn’t have Elgar’nan thinking he’d be any easy or quiet target.

“You’ve chosen a feisty one!” he smiled almost sadistically. “All the more fun for me!”

What happened next was a blur. Solas, not usually an overly violent person, slammed his right hand into Elgar’nan’s face, causing the latter elf to fall back, almost losing his balance and toppling over completely. Solas looked utterly smug with the scowl he received from his fellow Evanuris, allowing his hand to fall to his side.

“You will not lay a finger on my husband as long as I live, len’alas lath’din,” Solas said cooly but firmly. “You forget that existing entirely behind the Veil causes your power to degrade. Your magic transferred slowly but surely to the demons who would tear this world asunder, creating monsters that never existed before. You always did disregard the magic of the Fade as a useless hobby.”

Elgar’nan straightened up, reaching his full height so that he looked down at the Dread Wolf, having an advantage of height.

“I may not be at my full power but you are not certain that you could take me in a fight. I will destroy you and everything you love,” he promised. “No matter how long it takes, you will suffer for what you have done.”

With that threat hanging in the air, Elgar’nan stepped backwards through an open Eluvian, the glass hardening immediately afterwards, preventing them from following. 

A silence fell over the three of them as the circumstances of the last hour truly sunk in. First of all, Bull had betrayed them, aligning himself with the Qun which apparently was working with the Elven God of Vengeance to bring back the entirety of the Elven Pantheon and achieve world domination. Then, with said Elven ‘God’ turning up, it turned out he was planning a personal vendetta against Solas for locking him and the other gods away. It had been quite the day.

“I suppose the Inquisition really is still needed,” the Inquisitor eventually broke the quiet with an almost defeated sigh. 

Barely a moment later her arm began to spasm and she cried out in pain. So intense was the flare that she fell to her knees, clutching at her wrist as her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Green light illuminated the walkway, burning brighter than ever before. The mark seemed to twist about her hand, practically radiating the old Elven magic that was so abundant in the Eluvians.

“Solas,” she gasped desperately. “Please get rid of it!”

The elf knelt down beside her, taking her hand slowly and grasping her forearm. He looked into her eyes, silently asking for permission. In response, he received an urgent nod. Immediately, his eyes lit up bright white like a burning fire or the sun when it was high in the sky shining down at its brightest. His magic enveloped her forearm and overcame the magic of the Anchor. Her lower arm fell away from her elbow, going limp. The cut was clean, almost as if she had never possessed the entire arm. The mark itself faded away from the severed arm which Solas deposited gently on the floor before them. 

The Inquisitor’s face relaxed at once, the pain clearly having been alleviated. She hesitated before standing up, bringing up her arm- or lack thereof- to examine more closely.

Solas smiled sadly. “There was no other way.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “Solas, I know I sent you and Dorian away, but I cannot fight this battle alone. I need your support. You know more than anyone about the Elven Pantheon, and if we have to face Elgar’nan and possibly the rest, we’re going to need all the help we can get. Maybe this can be the point where I learn to trust you again.”

His face softened as he seemed to consider the notion, staring up at her. “You know that Dorian and I have been doing important work in Tevinter. We cannot abandon that now. However, given the relationship between the Elvhen and the Imperium, I believe that Elgar’nan will likely make that a destination in his mission. While you couldn’t go there without rousing suspicion, we have become a presence in the Magisterium and our return is expected.”

“You’re saying that,” she said slowly, “I should run things as normal here in the South whilst you two spy for me?”

He nodded. “Elgar’nan may seem hot-headed but he is cunning. If he feels that you are moving resources against him, he may strike before you are prepared. I will help you fight him, but we must think carefully. One of our own has already betrayed us. You cannot afford to allow his influence to corrupt the Inquisition any further.”

“Besides,” Dorian stepped up beside his husband, “what’s one more seemingly impossible task? Fix the Magisterium, free the slaves, kill an Elven god. What could be easier?”

The Inquisitor began to laugh, quietly at first before getting progressively louder. Maybe it was the trauma of the day’s events, maybe it was the sudden drop of adrenaline, but in that moment, everything that they had been through, everything that was yet to come, all of it seemed like something out of some wild tale. None of it could really be true. It had to be some sort of cosmic joke. It just had to be.

“How did we end up here?” Adaar sighed once she managed to catch her breath. 

Dorian pretended to ponder the question, stroking almost comically at his moustache. “I suppose a mix of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and some very poor decision making.”

“And some extremely bad luck,” she added, pausing for a moment as she surveyed the scene before them. The pathway was littered with rubble and other evidence of a fight. The Qunari had left the Eluvians, clearly eager to follow after an elf they presumed they could dispose of once he had granted them ultimate power. 

How naive they were.

“We should get back. They’ll be worried about us,” she drew her lips into a straight line, her face betraying her concern.

“We go back and then we can figure this out. This battle is not over. We will solve this. You fixed the breach, remember? If anyone has the power to take down, Elgar’nan, it’s you and the rest of the Inquisition,” Dorian attempted to rouse her, sensing she was losing the will to keep fighting.

When she did not look convinced, Solas spoke up, “Dorian is right. You are better equipped than anyone to deal with this threat. For the sake of his pride, Elgar’nan will underestimate you, giving you the advantage. Besides, you have another opportunity at hand; whilst what he knows of you is based off of rumour and speculation, I know him very well and can provide you with details on his strengths, his weaknesses, his mannerisms.”

The impossible stillness of that moment, in which the world was frozen around the three of them, was broken only by their breathing. The Eluvians were locked in time and place, and a resounding silence echoed through the endless chasm which transcended the confines of reality. The raw beauty of it could be appreciated but it was a thorned rose, a sea fraught with dangerous currents, depending on which wind seized power.

“Solas, I am glad to have you on board. I don’t think I can do this without you, either of you, really,” she said slowly, glancing between them. “At first, I thought that was a bad thing, but now I think we’ve been thrown together in this mess and we have the power to stop the world ending a second time. Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.”

Solas allowed himself a small smile in response to that. “I am glad that you see it that way. I feared I had lost your good opinion forever.”

She sighed. “You didn’t exactly lose my approval. I just needed some distance to consider everything.”

“I fear,” Dorian interrupted the tense mood that was slowly growing and thriving, “that if we keep talking about this, we shall grow old and grey before any of us feel any sense of resolution. We all know how we feel about this and I highly doubt any of is ready to change our minds all of a sudden. So instead of wasting time and energy, let’s just try and move forward.”

“That’s.. very wise of you, Dorian,” the Inquisitor responded.

He scoffed. “Don’t act so shocked! I have my moments! But aside from your doubting my excellence,” he shifted his gaze between the two, “shall we head back? I believe we’ll need some rest before we start any of this war across the lands business and I for one need my beauty sleep.”

The Inquisitor smiled. He felt Solas take his hand.

“Home it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s the end to the series! I’m gonna come back to it and hopefully write some stuff set before the first of the fics in this series but this is the end as far as future story goes. My aim was to end up with a similarly dramatic ending to the actual game so that (as a canon) it could lead into the next game fairly smoothly.
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed it! I’ve loved writing this series and I love to hear what you have to say about it! Thank you to all of you who’ve been reading! I’ll see you soon!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this (short) prologue piqued your interests! As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated! :)


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